Songs and Sonnets (Coleman)/Our Common Brotherhood
OUR COMMON BROTHERHOOD.
I never saw his face, or knew his name,
But that gay morning as I loitering came
Around the blossoming hillside, all aflame
With lilac spires and apple-blossoms brave,
That to the rifling air their sweetness gave,
I saw where they were making him his grave.
If I had chanced to meet him by the way,
In all the golden sunshine of the day,
No pleasant word I might have found to say;
But since he could no longer come to meet
The world, love-smitten, dreaming at his feet,
Nor feel within his pulse the Spring-tide beat,
Nor love again, I gave for him instead,
And poured upon his low, unconscious head
The sacramental love that shrives the dead.
And though I went my way with eyelids wet
For grief of one whom I had never met,
Because his day so soon was ended, yet
I turned my face up Heavenward again,
Believing human love is not in vain;
And, moved and softened by the sudden strain
Of fellowship, I touched the larger mood
Of universal love, and understood
The passion of our common brotherhood.